Adler and Hooper
by TheHeartOfTheDetective
Summary: Irene Adler and Molly Hooper solve cases together after Sherlock is put in hospital.
1. Chapter 1 – A Favour

Molly Hooper walked quickly down the hall at Saint Bart's. She passed by multiple doors, but she felt like she would never find the right room. She felt like she was in an endless hallway, searching for the last room out of an infinite number of doors.

_101. 102. There we go! _She thought. _Room 103._

Molly knocked on the door, and just seconds later, the door opened and she stared up at a familiar face.

"Thank you for coming." John Watson said, giving Molly a hug.

"Who is it?" A baritone voice said from inside the room.

"Molly Hooper," John told him. He stepped aside to let Molly in. "Please, come in."

Molly walked in slowly, John closing the door behind her. She looked at the man who lay in the hospital bed. Sherlock Holmes. He shouldn't even be alive right now. He flat lined; his heart stopped and they couldn't resuscitate him. He should be dead, yet there he was.

Molly sat in a chair next to Sherlock's bed, and watched him. He watched her too. Molly couldn't help but think about how much love and anger she had for him; a man who was so cruel, yet so kind to her. She just didn't know what to think of him anymore.

Well, of course she did.

She loved him. And he saw her as a friend, but that was okay. Molly didn't need his love to be happy. She just needed to know that he counted her as a friend. And that is why he had been asking her to visit him in hospital.

"Molly," Sherlock said. "You are probably wondering why I've asked you to come–"

"Yes," Molly interrupts. "Sorry." She says after a moment.

"It's fine," Sherlock says. "When you get back to your flat, someone will be in your there."

"What do you mean?" Molly asked.

"A woman," Sherlock said. "She'll be waiting for you. She is doing me a favour while I'm in hospital; so don't be alarmed when you see her. She just wants to ask you to join her."

"Why don't you just ask her now?" John asked from behind us.

Sherlock gave him a look.

"Sorry." John said.

Sherlock looked back at Molly. "She wanted to ask you herself."

"What kind of favour?" Molly asked.

"She's waiting." Sherlock said.

Molly didn't know what to say, so she just stood up and walked to the door. "Goodbye, Sherlock." She said as she opened the door.

"Goodbye, Molly." Sherlock said.

* * *

When Molly got back to her flat, she looked down at what she was wearing. She was still wearing her lab coat, which she forgot to leave at the hospital. She hoped she didn't still smell like the morgue

She paid the cabbie as she got out of the cab and walked up to the door of the building. She got out her keys, and opened the door. After walking up the stairs, she turned the doorknob to her flat, and it opened. Whoever this woman was, she must have left it unlocked for Molly.

Molly stepped in, and walked into her kitchen. She tossed her keys on the counter and walked back to the door, taking off her lab coat and hanging it on the coat rack. She then hung her purse on the hook next to it and turned round.

The flat was quiet, and nothing seemed out of place. Where was the woman? Molly started to walk to her bedroom, but stopped when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned around, and standing behind her was the woman,

And she was stark naked.


	2. Chapter 2 – Sherlock's Female Equivalent

Molly gasped, causing the woman on her couch to open her eyes. She sat up immediately and looked at Molly.

The women smiled. "Well dear, your finally home?"

"Um…" Molly didn't know what to say.

"What's wrong?" The women asked. "You don't recognize me?"

"Sh–should I?" Molly stuttered, keeping her eyes on the women's face as she approached her.

"Oh," The women said. "Maybe not. Last time you saw me, my head was bashed in." She stepped closer to Molly. "And it wasn't me."

"Wait – your…" Molly knew who she was. She didn't recognized her, but she definitely remembered when she was in the morgue. Christmas day, four years before. Her body was brought in to the morgue and Sherlock Holmes was the person who came to identify her. Her face was bashed up, so he asked to see the rest of her and immediately recognized her upon her body.

"Has it come to you yet?" Irene asked.

"Irene Adler." Molly said. How she remembered the woman's name, she had no idea.

Irene smiled. "You _do _remember."

"But…" Molly was confused. "You were dead, on a slab. Your head was bashed in."

"Oh Molly," Irene said. "If Sherlock Holmes can fake his death, so can I."

Molly stared at her in silence before she remembered how much Irene was wearing. "Could you put clothes on."

"I haven't brought any." Irene said.

"What's that over there, then?" Molly asked, pointing to a pile of thick black cloth on the sofa.

"Oh," Irene said, walking over to the sofa and picking it up. "That's just my coat."

"It's Sherlock's." Molly said.

"Not anymore," Irene said. "It's not like he doesn't have one anymore. He has lots of coats."

"Put it on," Molly said. "Please."

"You don't like what you see?" Irene asked, looking offended.

Molly looked her in the eyes. "Put it on."

Irene shook her head as she put her arms through the sleeves of the coat. "And I thought things were going to get fun. If only you knew where to look."

Molly blushed.

"Oooh. Was I wrong?" Irene smirked and buttoned the coat.

"Why are you here?" Molly asked, changing the subject.

"I have been asked a favour by the great Sherlock Holmes." Irene said, sitting on the sofa. "Sherlock wants you to assist me." She patted the spot next to her.

Molly joined her on the sofa. "And what is the favour?"

"Crimes," Irene said. "We are going to solve Sherlock's cases while he's in hospital."

"Why us?" Molly asked.

"Because I am his female equivalent," Irene told her. "Well, as close as one can get."

"Okay," Molly said. "Why me? Why not have John assist you?"

"John isn't too fond of me," The woman said. She took her hair out of a neat updo and let it hang at her shoulders. "Plus, Sherlock thinks that you would be the perfect companion for me."

Molly laughed in disbelief. "Companion?"

"Oh, yes. He said you did quite well when you helped him with those case after he returned." Irene said.

"He did?" Molly said rather quickly. She blushed.

"He did," Irene said. "So, will you accept my invitation?"

Molly thought for a moment, and then smiled. "When do we start?"

"John phoned Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade," Irene told her. "We should be getting a call when a case comes up."

"Okay. So, I guess just phone me when he calls." Molly said.

"Actually," Irene started. "I don't have anywhere to stay…" Irene said, obviously expecting Molly to invite her to stay at her flat.

And of course, Molly couldn't say no.

"You can…stay here…I guess." She said, regretting it once the first word came out of her mouth.

Irene smiled. "Fantastic," She said. "Thank you dear."

"Just one thing…" Molly said.

"And what is that?" Irene asked.

"Please," Molly said. "Keep your clothes on."

Irene laughs. "I'll try, Miss Hooper.


	3. Chapter 3 – Call of the Void

After two days of living with Molly, Irene had finally found the decency to wear Molly's clothes. Irene, of course, told Molly how dull her clothing was, but Molly ignored her. She didn't care what Irene, of all people, had to say about her sense of fashion. Irene was used to nice, fancy dresses, but Molly liked her simple trousers and shirts. She wasn't going to dress differently just because the dominatrix wants her to.

They both sat on the sofa watching telly. Molly had her arms around her legs and her chin rested on her knees. Irene sat with her legs crossed. Her elbow stood on her leg and her chin rest in the palm of her hand. They were both bored.

Suddenly, Irene's mobile rang. She took it out of her pocket and looked at the caller ID. Her smile told molly that either they had a case, or Sherlock was calling. The former, of course, was more likely.

Irene held the phone to her ear. "Hello, Detective Inspector…Where?...We'll be there in a few minutes…Goodbye." She hung up.

Molly put her feet back on the floor. "Greg?"

"Yes," Irene said. "361a Rosewood Street."

Molly and Irene stood up. Molly grabbed her coat and Irene put on Sherlock's, and they both headed outside and hailed a cab.

* * *

When they arrived at the crime scene, they approached the police tape, which provided a block on the street. Sergeant Sally Donovan stood there.

"If you'll excuse us, dear," Irene said to Sergeant Donovan. "We'd like to get through."

"No one can get through," Donovan informed her. "There's been a crime."

"We were invited by Inspector Detective Greg Lestrade." Molly said.

"Why?" Donovan asked."

"He wants us to investigate the body," Irene told her. "Why else?"

"Why would he invite _you_?" Donovan asked in a cold voice.

Irene took a step forward. "Because we were suggested."

Donovan took a step back. "By who?"

Irene took another step forward. "Sherlock Holmes."

Donovan crossed her arms. "I still can't let you in."

"Would you like me to call Greg?" Irene asked.

Donovan finally rolled her eyes and lifted the tape.

Irene stepped under. "Thank you, dear."

"Thanks." Molly said as she followed Irene.

They walked up to the flat where the crime took place. Phillip Anderson was waiting at the door. As they approached the door, he stopped them.

"You can't go there." He said.

"Oh please," Irene said, pushing Anderson out of the way. "We've already been through this with Sergeant Donovan." Irene pushed open the door and walked inside.

"Sorry." Molly said to Anderson as she followed Irene.

There were people inside. They all were dressed in light blue coveralls, shoe covers, and gloves. Lestrade was waiting inside.

"Molly?" Lestrade said as Irene and Molly approached him.

"Greg." Molly greeted.

"What are you doing here?" Lestrade asked.

"She's with me." Irene told him.

"And you are…?" Lestrade asked.

"Irene Adler." She said.

"Oh, yeah," Lestrade extended his hand in front of him, but took it back when Irene didn't shake it. "Sherlock told me about you. The body is through there, but you'll need to put on coveralls as well.

Molly put on the coveralls, but Irene refused. All she put on was the gloves.

When they entered the next room, the body lay in the centre of the floor. The room was clear of furniture, and the wallpaper was [peeling. There wasn't any light, all light bulbs were missing from where they should have been.

"I'd say she's in her twenties," Molly said as she crouched in front of the body.

The woman lay on her stomach. He head was turned to the left and it was streaked with blood. Irene got on her knees next to Molly. And touched the dead woman's cheek with her hand.

"No cuts where the blood is," Irene said. "There is a wound on the back of her head. She was killed by a deathblow to the back of the head with a blunt instrument."

Molly moved to the woman's legs. "Her legs are broken," Molly felt the woman's legs through the dark jeans she wore, which were wet with blood. "Both of them. I'll guess that it happened before she was killed."

Irene felt her arms, which were wounded as well. "Her arms are broken too. Most likely before her death."

"She may have fallen…" Molly trailed off.

"But the killer could have done it as well." Irene finished. She turned to Lestrade, who was standing in the doorway. "Was anything found with her? A purse, handbag, anything; an umbrella, even?"

"No," Lestrade said. "Nothing. She didn't even have a phone. The room was empty, along with her pockets."

"Go get me a torch," Irene told him. "Get Molly one too."

Lestrade left and came back with two torches. He handed one to Irene and the other to Molly. Irene stood up and shined to torch on the wall. Molly did too.

"What are we looking for?" Molly asked.

"Anything," Irene said as she walked round the room. "There must be something. Every killer leaves _something_ behind."

"Because…" Molly began.

"It wouldn't be any fun if thy didn't." Irene finished.

"What would they have left?" Lestrade asked.

Irene moved to the other side of the room. "Any dent in the wall," Irene said. "Any stain, anything." She turned to Lestrade. "Have you lot even bothered peeling back this wallpaper?"

Lestrade said nothing.

A few minutes later, Molly stopped walking.

"Irene," Molly said. "Come look at this."

"What is it?" Irene asked as she walked over to Molly.

Molly rubbed the palm of her hand over the wall. "There is an outline in the wall. Like something is carved into it."

"Rectangular." Irene said, placing her hand on the spot being investigated.

"Something is hidden under the wallpaper," Molly said. "Could be a trap door. Maybe there is a hidden compartment."

"Maybe it holds a clue." Irene said.

"Yeah," Molly said. "Maybe."

"Lestrade," Irene said. "Get someone who can get to whatever this is."

* * *

Awhile later, they had found a compartment in the wall. There was a piece of paper in it. Molly reached in and picked it up. It was blank. She turned it over in her hand and stared down at scribbled words in a foreign language.

"L'appel du vide?" Molly said.

"What?" Lestrade asked, walking over to her.

"L'appel du vide," Molly repeated. "That's what this says."

Irene took the paper from Molly and stared at it.

"What does it mean?" Lestrade asked.

"L'appel du vide," Irene said. "It's French."

"Alright then," Lestrade said. "What does it mean?"

"Call of the void." Irene said.

"You speak French?" Molly asked. Irene ignored her.

"What exactly does that mean?" Lestrade asked Irene.

"You know how when you are on top of a high building, or a cliff, and you just have the urge to throw yourself off? Fall to your death, even though you have no desire to die, well usually you don't. Well, that's l'appel du vide. Call of the void."

"And that's a clue?" Lestrade said.

"That's the killer's message to us." Molly told him.

"Exactly." Irene said.

"So, what?" Molly asked. "This woman jumped off something, and survived. The killer, whoever they are, killed her?"

"More like euthanized her." Irene said.

Irene tossed her torch to Lestrade, and Molly gave hers back. They both headed towards the door, Molly stripping off her coveralls.

"I think we're done here, Detective Inspector," Irene said. "We'll investigate the corpse back at Bart's."

Irene and Molly left the scene before Lestrade could say anything to them.


	4. Chapter 4 – She-Male

Molly stared down at the autopsy report she had just written. The woman, Caroline Matthews, had four broken ribs, along with her arms and femurs snapped in two. One arm, and one femur did not appear to have broken from the fall. It was most likely done by the weapon, which caused the wound to the back of the head. Molly thought it was most likely a walking stick, but that was one thing the autopsy couldn't tell her.

When she got back to her flat after work, she told Irene the results. Irene told her that Greg had found some people who were around the flat at the time they believe Caroline had died. Tomorrow, Lestrade would bring them into Scotland Yard, and Irene and Molly could question them. Luckily, Molly had the next day off of work, so she didn't have to worry about calling in or faking illness, which she would have refused to do anyways.

* * *

Three people were brought in for questioning. Two of which were neighbours. The third was Caroline's boyfriend, who had found her.

Kady Darwin was brought in first. She lived in a flat across from Caroline.

"Miss Darwin," Irene started after Kady was seated in the interrogation room. "What do you remember seeing September 23rd, around 3:40 pm at Caroline Matthews' flat?"

Kady stuttered. "I s-saw, this person enter the flat."

"Man or woman?" Molly asked.

"A man," Kady said. "He had on a dark brown trench coat."

Molly frowned. "How do you know it was a man?"

Kady's stuttering was uncommon now. She was beginning to calm down. "I–I never saw his front, just his back, so I can't give you any details on his facial structures. It was strange, though. Th-They were wearing a hood – like they were wearing a hoodie under the trench coat. I thought about calling the police, but Caroline had told me a few days earlier that her cousin was coming to visit. I thought that maybe that was him, so I ignored it."

Irene crossed her legs. "Do you remember seeing this person leave the flat?"

"No," Kady bit her lip. "I didn't even hear anything until an officer rang my doorbell."

"Thank you, Kady," Molly said. "If you remember anything, give Detective Inspector Lestrade a call."

Lestrade, who had been waiting by door, led Kady out.

The next neighbour came in, giving no more information than Kady had except for one thing: He saw a woman enter the flat. Caroline's boyfriend didn't say anything wither. Nothing other than he had found her and he didn't notice anything about the house different.

* * *

Molly sat on the sofa with a sigh when she and Irene arrived back at the flat. "How are we going to do this, Irene? We've got nothing to go on – besides a she-male in a hoodie covered by a trench coat."

Irene headed straight for the kitchen, and began boiling water in a kettle. "You aren't thinking it through, Doctor Hooper. A she-male?"

"They both said different genders," Molly said. "What am I supposed to _deduce_ from that?"

"It wasn't a she-male, dear."

"Then what was it?"

Irene turned her head towards the sofa. "It was a man and a woman," She said. "I assume one went in, and the other followed behind a few minutes later."

"What about Caroline, then?" Molly asked. "How did she get in there with anyone noticing her bloody and broken."

Irene thought for a moment as she grabbed a mug from Molly's cuboards and set it on the counter. "Maybe, they found her isolated somewhere. Greg told me that Caroline's boyfriend said she didn't like attention. She probably jumped from somewhere she thought no one would be around. The killers found her still alive, and took her back to her house. One goes in to check if anyone was in the flat. When they see that there isn't, they bring Caroline inside. The second person goes in a few minutes later and together, the man and woman _euthanize_ Caroline, escaping before anyone get back. They are luckily unseen while they escape, and the boyfriend comes home to find Caroline."

Molly sighed. "Clever. Now, I'm _so _sorry that Sherlock doesn't give me lessons on deductions, observation, and crime solving – although I doubt he does that for anyone."

"He doesn't?" Irene said, returning to the kettle. She put a tea bag in the mug, then poured the water into a mug. "Does that make me special?"

Molly looked at Irene, frowning. "Maybe."

"Don't be jealous," Irene said with a smile. "I'm sure, if you're good, Sherlock will give you lessons as soon as he gets home from hospital."

Molly blushed. "No. He wouldn't. He'll just go back to asking me for body parts to experiment on."

"Are you _really_ okay with that, Doctor Hooper?" Irene asked, grabbing another mug and putting a tea bag and water into it as well. She dropped some sugar into each mug, and poured in some milk.

Molly folded her arms across her chest. "You do realize that you can call me Molly, right?"

"That wasn't an answer, Doctor Hooper." Irene walked into the sitting room and held out one of the mugs she now held to Molly.

"It wasn't meant to be," Molly said, accepting the mug. "Yes, I am okay with it."

"No you're not." Irene said.

Molly frowned at her. "How would _you_ know?"

"I have experience with women," Irene told her. "Some of my clients are women. I don't believe any of them nor myself would like being used as a source of body parts for experimentation."

Molly said nothing. She drank her tea in silence, and neither her nor Irene said much for the rest of the evening.


End file.
